


To Hear the Sea Maid's Music

by miriad



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-10
Updated: 2006-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miriad/pseuds/miriad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Thou rememb'rest<br/>Since once I sat upon a promontory<br/>And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back,<br/>Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath<br/>That the rude sea grew civil at her song,<br/>And certain stars shot madly from their spheres<br/>To hear the sea-maid's music.</i><br/>- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream<br/>(Oberon at II, i)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Hear the Sea Maid's Music

It's not that Sam is actually surprised. On a theoretical level, he knows that Dean helped care for him, took care of him as a baby and that Dean is actually very good with kids. Look at Lucas, at Michael. But when presented with the sight of his brother holding a baby and just owning it, every second of it, it throws him. Totally and completely.

"Dude, baby?" Dean shoots him a look, eyebrow raised, the one that says that Sam is the biggest tool in the shed and where the fuck has he been, yeah, a baby. Sam ignores it, takes a step forward and squints, trying to make out the tiny print on the t-shirt the baby's sporting. "You got him a Zeppelin shirt?"

"Her, douche bag, and yeah. Zeppelin rules." Again, the eyebrow says duh. Dean bounces a little on the balls of his feet, the baby rocking against his shoulder, eyes fluttering open, then closed, back and forth as if he-she, sorry- can't quite decide what she wants to do. He has his right hand on her back, left arm under her butt and his cheek pressing against the top of her head as he hums softly under his breath. He looks settled, at ease in a way that Sam hasn't seen in years, if ever at all. Something inside him twists sharply, making him ache

"We can't keep her. There's no way-"

"I wasn't planning on keeping her, Sam. She's got a family. We just have to find them." And there he is, the Dean that Sam has become familiar with, has ridden in the car with for months now; the snarky, restless, angry guy who knows exactly what to do and how to do it, as long as hunting is involved. Sam plays his part in this, throwing out the lines that Dean seems to need.

"And just how are we going to do that, huh? She got one of those GPS trackers in her ear, a handy tattooed map on her back, pointing the way home?"

"Nope. Look in the bag." There's a gray duffle on the bed. It's battered, been around the block a few times, stained with sea salt and dirt. Sam leans his shins against the bed frame and peers over the bag, unzipping it and pulling the sides open. His breath catches for a minute before he spins on his heels and looks at Dean, eyes wide.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"Nope."

"Are you serious?" His sharp tone makes the baby wriggle in Dean's arms, her little face twisting unhappily, her whole body working to decide if crying is the way she needs to go.

"Yes, Sam." Annoyed now, Dean starts pacing, rocking from side to side, giving off a 'weebles wobble' vibe. Sam turns back to the bag and reaches in slowly. After a moment he pulls out what almost could pass for silk but slides through his fingers like oil. It shimmers in the dim light, appearing brown, then translucent, then back to brown. He peels the edges apart, holds it up and spreads it out in front of him.

"A selkie's skin. What the fuck, Dean?" Sam's breath catches in his throat, the weight of the moment and the lack of weight of the skin combining to remind him of all the dreams he'd had as a kid, the ones with mermaids and sea monsters, princesses waiting to be rescued and Sam bravely doing the job. It's as if his childhood has come back to him in one rush of air into his lungs and he takes a minute to steady himself.

"It's hers. Too little to be anyone else's."

"Where did you-?"

"I took a walk out front. Heard a noise. The bag was next to her on the beach. No carrier, no stroller, no mama or papa to pick her up when the tide came in." Dean speaks the words as if they were part of some sort of beautiful fairy tale, his tone light and happy, as it never is anymore and might never have been, the tone hiding the anger inherent in the words. He's pissed, furious that he had to find the baby on the beach, alone, in danger from the elements if not something else. But Dean's carrying the baby, trying to keep her calm and sleeping and his tone hides everything. Sam wonders what he missed, what truths he never heard when he was a kid because they were hidden in that tone, from his father and his brother. Dean's breath stirs the downy hair on the baby's head as he speaks, still moving from one end of the crappy motel room to the other.

"She's Selkie, Dean. She didn't need those things." Sam's still looking at the skin, turning it this way and that, trying to see it for all it is but not quite able, as is it's nature. He's having trouble holding on to the thing so he gently settles it back into the duffle.

"The skin was in the bag, dipshit. No way she could have gotten to it to put it back on. She would have drowned. End of story."

There are a million questions that Sam wants to ask but Dean's on the defensive and the baby seems to have finally fallen asleep so Sam waits, knows that he'll get his chance at some later point whether Dean gives him the opportunity or he makes it himself. Sam sits next to the bag on the bed, ignoring it as Dean putters around, baby's face smashed into his shoulder, baby drool creating an ever-widening circle of wetness on his white t-shirt.

The TV is on but the sound is down and Sam notices that it's on the local station. He glances at the clock on the bedside table. 11:01 pm. The news is just starting so he reaches for the remote to turn the volume up but freezes when Dean, not even looking at him, speaks, soft but sharp.

"Dude, are you nuts? Baby!"

"Exactly. We should see if there's anything on the news about her."

"What are they going to say, Sam? If you've found a baby Selkie, she actually belongs here, to these people, take her back?" And Sam feels kind of stupid after that but his heart's in the right place so he soldiers on, tries to reason with the man who is currently cooing at an infant in a tiny Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

"Maybe there's a mother with a missing baby and where did you get that shirt? Seriously, dude." Dean pulls back the covers on the second bed, using only one hand. He ignores Sam, ignores his questions, his focus on the sleeping baby and how to keep her that way. Dean props the pillows against the headboard and slides under the covers, jeans and all. The baby shifts against him but doesn't wake and Dean pulls the covers up and over both of them.

She sighs and Dean sighs and Sam wants to cry when he looks at them because he knows that this is something Dean has never allowed himself to want, something that Dean has written off for himself. He seems to be resigned to dying in the line of duty, protecting someone or something from whatever evil is out there. There's no room in a life like that for a family or kids and both Sam and Dean know it in a way that their dad never really did.

They sit there together, the buzz of the TV drowning out the low volume of the news program but Sam watches it anyway, watching for the face of a distraught mother or father, someone who lost a baby as cute- and yeah, he can admit that she's cute despite not really being into babies all that much- as the one Dean's cuddling with right now.

But there's nothing, no stories or special reports and Sam wonders what's really going on here. He's heard of Selkie's but not of Selkie babies, at least not on land. He knows the legend, that whoever has the Selkie's skin controls the Selkie and that no mother in her right mind would risk anything happening to her baby by bringing her ashore. So what happened?

He pulls himself off the bed, large feet thumping softly on the thin carpet and he chances a glance at his brother just in case. Dean's eyes are at half-mast, his hand mechanically rubbing small circles on the baby's back, totally ignorant to Sam's movements. Sam frowns as he realizes that they don't have a name for the kid, don't know what to call her. He wants to ask Dean if there was anything else with the baby, anything that they could use to figure out just who she is but he can't force out words, can't take away the peace that surrounds Dean and the baby.

Sam pads across the motel room and picks up the laptop off the table with one hand, turning back to the bed. He sets the computer on the comforter then picks up the duffle bag and stows it away in the closet, next to the extra ammo and the shotgun. He pulls his jeans off, throws them over the back of a chair and slides under his own covers, setting the laptop on his lap and getting to work. There has to be something and if there is, he'll find it.

Dean sighs and shifts, the baby moving with him and Sam grabs the laptop, ready to dive, to keep Dean from rolling over on top of the kid or dropping her on the floor but Dean has a firm grip and the two of them look settled. Sam can't tell just how old she is but he figures that she won't sleep through the night and that if he knows that, then so does Dean, which more than likely explains his position. Sam will be awake for a while, researching what he can about who she is and where she came from. He'll keep an eye out on the two of them and won't let anything happen. He settles back against the pillows and listens to the gentle breathing of two bodies at rest beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a small moment in a much, much larger story, one that as I kept writing and working on it, grew into something that I could not possibly finish in time for this challenge and this deadline. Consider this a teaser trailer, if you will, a glimpse of more things to come. I want to thank Katie, Morgan and Shireen, who worked out a number of things for this story and svmadelyn for working so hard to make this community and challenge such a great time. For the undermistletoe fic challenge.


End file.
